The poem is a single line, but it carries a lot of weariness. The speaker says they are tired of meeting "the same people in different bodies." Taken literally, that sounds impossible, so it's probably a figure of speech. The speaker seems to feel that new people keep turning out to be old patterns: the same habits, the same charm, the same ways of disappointing, just wrapped in a new face. Each fresh encounter starts to feel like a rerun.
The feeling here is fatigue more than anger. There's a sense of having seen it all before, and of hope wearing thin. It could be about dating, friendships, or simply a sense that people fall into types. The poem doesn't say which, and that openness lets readers fill in their own experience. The mood is quiet, dry, and a little lonely. Because it is so short, the line lands like a sigh, leaving a pause where the speaker's tiredness settles in.